The Little Red House on the Corner
by ammyDOS101
Summary: (Former 19th of June fans! Read this story!) Our favorite YouTube characters have turned into humans! Join them as they discover more of life's greatest mysteries, and maybe find love along the way... Rated T for violence, language, and eventual sexual themes


**Yes! I have started over! More notes at the end! Enjoy!**

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><p>There is a little red house on the corner of Maple Street. It has white shutters, a deck, and a huge backyard leading into the forest. The perfect house to start a family in. It was highly demanded, and sold in a matter of weeks. At first, it was quiet. Everyone seemed to get along just fine. But it only took a little while for the rumors to start. The neighbors complained of screaming and banging noises. Many people moved out. Some called the police, and it got to the point of them occasionally not picking up. Months passed, and soon the whole neighborhood became empty. The once cheery street turned into a barren wasteland. No cars drove down it, and the only person who dared to enter was the poor old mailman, hastily shoving bills into the rusty box. Not that anyone cared if they were paid for or not. The 'family' was forgotten, Maple Street having lost it's charm.<p>

This is the story of that family.

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><p>The young girl slowly rose from the floor, untangling herself from her skirt, wincing as searing hot pain shot into her head. And her eyes. And her legs. Come to think of it, her entire body was sore, and as she slowly gained enough energy to look up, the answer was quite clear. This girl, called Paige, had fallen off the fridge. She didn't have the faintest idea of how she had gotten up there, but accepted the fact that this was indeed the reason for her discomfort. Paige fumbled around, her bright green-gold eyes darting throughout the room. She tried desperately to reach the counter top her gaze had found, but couldn't. She was just too short. Paige had a sudden thought of a long forgotten fairy tale about a girl who was too tall and too short at the same time, always so confused, never fitting in; And in spite of herself, she glanced around again, in search of a little cake reading, 'Eat me.' She didn't find anything, and reached for the counter top again. No luck. Paige cursed under her breath, and grasped a drawer handle instead. She hoisted herself up, nearly falling again as a result of boots that stretched up to her knees, completed with sharp, pointed heels.<p>

"I wonder if anyone's home…" She whispered, shakily crossing the room to a small a knife rack, grabbing a cleaver. Paige decided to study her surroundings room by room, and wanted to go slowly, so she continued to explore the rather large kitchen. A small cactus in a windowsill, accompanied by a little red radio. A table sat in the middle of the room. There was a shelf mounted on the wall, too high for Paige to easily look at, so she backed up and craned her neck. Some books, a red stuffed triangle (_that _was interesting…), a jar, a hat. Normal things that normal people would have. She started to walk into the hallway, but stopped short when she noticed something on a little brown table. It wasn't the red phone, the keys, or the unopened mail; No… The thing that caught the young woman's eye was a miniature yellow note, with 'Get Creative' scrawled on it. Paige's breath caught in her throat as she remembered.

_Everything was going wonderfully at first. Her friends were engaged, interested in her work, eager to hear what she had to say next. She showed them how she expressed herself, and told them about the shapes in the clouds. From her view, of course. They weren't ready for that level of creativity. They learned well though. But, the yellow one she didn't like. He decided to have his own opinions, and that just wasn't right. She was the teacher, she told people what to do. She remembered waving it off, after destroying his work, of course. There couldn't be any evidence of bad teaching skills. He was sad, but that was one of the most creative emotions. You could use sadness for practically anything. _

_As the lesson wore on, Paige remembered getting more and more annoyed, and not just with yellow. They weren't excited enough! How was she going to tell them about creativity when they had no talent and enthusiasm?! It just wasn't possible. Plus, green?! Who's favorite color was green?! Oh, she had about had it with them. So, after teaching the puppets the most important thing of all, listening to what their hearts were telling them, so that they could express passion, listening to the rain, so that they could find inspiration from nature, and listening to the voices in their brains, so they would remember tips and hints on making the process as easy as it could be (even though the best artwork comes from a challenge, but they were too uncultured to understand that), she gave them the ultimate test. Of course, she had made it sound fun, but they were trying to please her. Nobody had much luck with that. And she almost screamed. THIS WAS WHAT THEY CALLED ART?! No. They were done. So everything went to hell._

Paige gasped as she snapped out of her flashback, groaning as she found herself on the floor again, the cleaver out of her reach. After another challenge with getting up (at least she was in good shape…), Paige clacked out of the kitchen, weapon in hand, wanting to leave those memories behind. And she hadn't even gotten to the bad part.

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><p>Across the hall, there was another dazed human, lying in a heap on the floor. Only this one was a man. A man called Tony. He got up quicker than Paige, being uninjured and much taller than her. He too looked around the room, his harsh gaze surveying every little detail and imperfection. He ran a blue hand through his messy black hair, and noticed an empty spot on the wall. There were other pictures beside it, one covered in black ink, seemingly useless, but still hung up. He didn't pay much attention to those, though. His racing mind was still on that spot, the paint slightly chipped, but only in that one place… He'd have to redo it, but, what did he know about painting? The spot had a mark around it, a circular mark. It showed that the now missing object had been there for a long period of time. Time. Time. <em>Time…. <em>

_These people were utterly boring. They always sat in their same spots at noon, right after lunch. The red one in his green arm chair, bird in the rocker, and the yellow boy in his colorful little seat. They weren't special. Tony bet that none of them knew even the basics of time, and how important it was. Of course they had a schedule, but did they know why? He had sprung up from sleep, singing and dancing, getting their stupid faces interested. And just when he started to make more of an effort, belting his heart out (not his best, but he couldn't help it! He was groggy), the big one with the red hair had shot down his idea! Saying that they wanted to go and watch the telly. He bashed that blasted… Thing… Down, and continued on with the lesson, taking them to Victorian Times, and the forest, teaching them about time management. Things had gotten a bit iffy when yellow's dad had showed up, but being Tony, he had turned it around. _

_Death was a thing of the past, and new and improved gadgets were what should be focused on. He tried to convince yellow, and got significantly angry when his dad decided to make another appearance. He'd have to do something about it. But all in good TIME._

Tony sat up, having fallen again in his flashback. He gulped when he remembered more, but shooed it out of his head before things got too bad. Time could get messy. Everyone knew that. "Of course!" Tony suddenly stated, and shot up with restored energy. He had to look for some kind of tool or weapon. The others were most likely docile, but you could never be too sure. Plus, Tony thought he felt another presence in the house. Someone… Possibly violent. So, he went on his way, stepping into the hall… And immediately colliding with someone else.

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><p>"What in the name of-" Tony started, but quickly cut himself off when he realized it was only a child. A pathetic one, with brown, puppy-like eyes, and loose overalls that hung off one shoulder. He looked… Scared. "Well well well… Who might you be?" Tony asked in a polite tone. Of course he knew who the frightened boy was, the ruffled blue hair and slightly yellow skin gave it all away, but, he wanted to give him a chance to speak. Tony had his standards.<p>

"I… I am… Uhhh…" He stuttered, not meeting the clock man's eyes, but instead focusing on some completely different spot. Tony swore he saw drool coming from the boy's mouth.

"Alright then, good sir. I'll leave you be." Tony turned on his heel, impatient to find a defense mechanism. Only to run into yet another person.

"Watch it!" The man yelled, jumping back. He brushed non-existent dust off of his red hoodie, and stared at Tony with a disbelieving, if not slightly horrified gaze. "Wait," He started, backing up even more. "You… You're…" He suddenly rushed past Tony to the child, scooping him up. "Come on, Manny. Let's go." The boy looked a little big in his arms, being 5 years old and all (_Of course _Tony could tell. He was glad to have some power), but comfortable all the same. With all of the other man's commotion, Manny had dropped the bear he was holding. He gasped, his chocolate eyes widening in utter horror. A child losing its toy. How pathetic. But, Tony picked it up and handed it back to the youth.

"I'm not planning on hurting you, if that's what you think. If you'll let me by, I'll be on my way, and stay out of everyone's business." That may or may not have been true. Tony would decide later.

"I'm going to trust you for now," The man said, adjusting Manny in his arms. "But only because we're all very confused." He then stepped aside, letting Tony through. He smiled politely, and rushed away.

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><p><strong>Okay, TiMe for notes! I have started over with The 19th of June, and I'm deleting it :( But this will be better! I promise! I'm not going to write it strictly in anyone's POV, I'll just be switching like I did in this chapter. Let me know if this is confusing. <strong>

**Tony is my favorite YouTube video wise, but I think Paige is more fun to write; So you might see some minor favoritism with her… Um, what else. Oh. I'm planning on teasing you guys with Padlock. It ****will** **be the ship I'm using, but I'm gonna be mean about it :D ALSO! School! 8th grade! Tests! AGGGHH! I'll be busy! I'm sorry! I can't help it, they bombard us with homework. I'll **_**try **_**to be fast, but it might just not happen. I hope you like this story, I have sooooo many ideas for future chapters :) x**


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